


Much Needed R&R

by phene



Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: Lazy Sex, M/M, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-14
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-08 12:33:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/761347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phene/pseuds/phene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom finds himself in a position prompting some downtime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Much Needed R&R

 

It’s not often Tom finds  himself alone and unhindered by the bothersome thoughts of work. And when he does find himself without work to addle his brain or the constant ring of his mobile for events and parties, he’s lost at what to do. At best, he wants to rest, to collapse on the couch with a good book and just sink into the feel of it. Isn’t that what everyone wants to do after a long day, or endless days for him, of work? But, Tom’s sore, tired in all the wrong ways and needs to unwind first.

As soon as he sweeps into his flat, his private abode snug away in the city, he strips unceremoniously out of his clothes and makes haste for the shower. A hot shower - that sounds so nice to him right now; just to dip in it, let it run through his hair, down his skin, thrum on all the knots that were laden away beneath his skin. He flicks the spray on and leans heavily against the sliding door to the stall as he waits for it to heat up. The last thing he needs is to be barraged by a shrill wave of chilling water. He’s a bit impatient, keeping an arm in the water with a pout on his lips until the cold settles into a lukewarm, then warm, then moderately hot, and he can’t wait another second. He hops in the shower and shakes out his hair before its even soaked. The sigh he lets out is a long one, an overdue one. Its from his belly, deep and relaxing as it ghosts off his lips.

“God, that feels too good,” he mewls pleasingly, carding through his curls ‘til they’ve been seeped through.

The steaming water is on him now, soaking his head and beading down his pearlescent skin as he turns about in the spray. He wants it to hit every part of him, get into every groove and curve of his long body. When his body is covered, he tilts his face back, reveling the soothing heat casting over his features. His palm smothers over his goatee then back into his hair again, kneading his skull at the temples down to his nape until his hands are cuffed at the base of his hairline and his chest is presented to be massaged by the shower.

It’s just hot enough now, not scalding, but easing the tension in all his joints and muscles. He just wants to stand there, and plans on it. It lasts for a few moments, moments he takes dearly as most of the stress washes down the drain. But, with all that tension gone, his body slacks into an amenable state, shifting and drawing up a heady interest between his legs he could possibly attend to now. At first, he gives his eager prick a quick glance, smirking smugly as he releases his hands from behind his head and slumps forward, arm and forehead to the wall with the water scaling down his back. His hand bends down to play in his curls idly as he eyes the increasing curve of his cock with terrible intent to give himself the best handjob he had ever given up to date.

With a lick of his lips, Tom trails his hand flat up along his thigh, adjusting his stance to put most of the weight on the leg with the arm to the wall. The other spreads out so he doesn’t create anymore needed tension then he’s going to release. Pliant and primed against the wall with the water soothing down his spine, he takes his palm up his length, running it along the underbelly ‘til it rounds the tip and dredges a smoky groan from his throat. It had been too long. With the tremble of pleasure coursing up his frame, Tom works a loose grip about himself at the base and strokes slowly to the tip, adding a soft amount of pressure as he climbs his length. At the head, he sweeps his thumb over the already pearling slit, rubbing it in and drawing himself to a fit of fleeting sounds. His eyes are hooded, lashes hung as he watches the ring his fingers made sink to the base and engulf his length on the drag back up. It feels terribly good and he wishes he could do it more often. A steady pace is established, nothing special, just a wank, and Tom is moaning quietly at the hot drag of his palm along his length, his practiced fingers pressing and squeezing in all the right places as the alleviating rush of water works the final knots out of his back. Just a little more -- he picks up the pace, gripping tighter than he has to, smudging the beads at the tip as he desperately wants to find release. And he almost does, he’s right there when a broad, warm hand touches his shoulder and slides down his arm to his jerking hand which stutters to a halt.

He should have known that grip, but keens as the hand wraps about his still one and starts pumping it again. The grip feels hotter, tighter, and his hips are jerking now, out of his control. He weakly turns his head to the threshold of the shower, met with a drowsy smile and frosted green eyes that go right through him each and every time.

“B-Benedict,” he weakly drawls, quickly succumbed by a moan at the realization.

“Who else, love?” and the tired man, he must have just roused from a nap, steps into the shower, draping his body over Tom’s back and working his cock hard and fast. Tom hand falls away to brace the wall by the other, presenting his arse to Benedict’s groin and allowing his stance to slack.

“Oh -- mh, I’m going to c-,” he chokes on the last syllable, shuddering as Benedict’s hand tightens at the base.

“Mh-mh,” Benedict scolds, still half-asleep as he nips at Tom’s shoulder and rocks lazily against his arse. He’s already hard and grinding with it until he slips between the two perfect cheeks and brushes the fluttering hole hidden there.

Tom arches his back and shoves against Benedict, riding on the heat sliding fleetingly against his arsehole until Benedict has no choice but to blige. His drowsy lover runs a free hand up his thigh to his hip, holding it briefly as he anchors Tom to rut against before slipping it up the lean chest to flatten over the pounding heart.

“I’m glad you’re home,” Benedict drawls and bites harshly into Tom’s shoulder.

The ginger yelps and moans at the same time, faintly aware of what Benedict had murmured into his skin. He just wants to come, badly. Thankfully, Benedict isn’t one to make him wait. The hips prying against his arse let up for a moment, to Tom’s dismay, and the grip on his cock loosens if just a bit. The hand to his heart slithers down over his ribs then back to trail his spine to the cleft of his arse. Long fingers slip between them, accompanied by the rush of hot water that has Tom a mess of choking moans. The explorative fingers only last a second, disappearing as Benedict leans away and fumbles behind them.

“Benny,” he moans wantonly, begging for more.

Benedict hums behind him, rides back up until he’s draped over the long back with fingers primed at his arse again. They’re slick as they slide down over his hole, smearing the scent of their shampoo into cute suds at the puckered ring. He toys with the rim, rubs his middle finger into it and tugs until Tom relaxes in his embrace. When Tom is pliant again, he smothers kisses to the bruised shoulder up to the long neck and plunges his finger into the knuckle. Tom groans and rocks against it, clenching and unclenching in his way of asking for more. Another finger prods his entrance and he pushes on it, letting it sink in with the other. The digits are scissoring soon enough, curling and dragging along his walls, avoiding the exact bundle of nerves Benedict’s memorized. Tom is pushing back on each thrust, essentially driving his cock through Benedict’s loose grip, and he’s trying his best to not come right then.

“Tom,” Benedict whispers in the crimson ear with his lust-thick voice, licking the shell with a flick of his tongue.

Tom shudders and rears forward, drawing off the fingers before giving his arse a good measured shimmy. Benedict’s groan is enough warming before the hot, thick head of his cock is flush against Tom’s hole and twitching to sink in. God, he paces himself, takes a deep breath, inhales Tom and their shampoo as he rocks his hips forward, just edging the head through the welcoming ring of muscle. It clenches and flutters, sucking him in. Tom hips work back against him, trying to ride Benedict’s cock, and usually, Benedict wouldn’t have any of it. But, on this especially half-conscious occasion, he meets Tom’s hips and buries himself balls deep in one thrust.

The slender body jerks forward with a pathetic gasp for air, eyes blown wide and chest heaving at the full, stretched sensation that fills his arse. Benedict hardly waits before he’s pulling back the point where the eager hole is dilated about the glans, lingering a moment as he admired the gorgeous sight of the red of his cock disappearing into Tom’s body. He thrusts back in without preamble, slapping their skin together in what becomes a fervent rush a jerks and thrusts, slowly mellowing out to something akin to a steady glide, a push and pull. It’s all Benedict as he holds Tom’s willing body still by the waist with one arm, binding him tightly, hand clasped to the opposite hip and baring crescent marks as he forges his way through the shear tightness of the ginger’s arse at his own desired pace.

Tom is bent against the wall, torn between forcing back on Benedict as he’s impaled and rutting forward into the large lazy hand. The arm around his waist tells him to hold still, let Benedict drive them home, but he’s so close, mind too hazy. He bucks his hips forward, nearly pulling off Benedict’s throbbing cock. Benedict growls behind him, vaguely coming awake, and he pumps his hips forward and draws Tom back, riding the length of his prick into Tom at a dangerously quick pace.

Tom is laughing, chuckling low through the moans as he gets what he wants, ridden hard from behind with Benedict’s hands on him. Benedict’s knows it, keeps thrusting, switching between grinding small circles and drawn out thrusts. But it all gets messy as his thrusts turn errant and his body shudders in anticipation. Tom’s trembling too, holding back this entire time, close enough to burst but unable to roll over the edge. Benedict figures he’d endured long enough. He snaps his hips forward in a few last, well aimed thrusts, easily striking Tom’s prostate. Tom’s head flies back at the first hit and his hips stutter forward, arse clenching and body overrun by the overwhelming pleasure that’s rocking through him. Benedict’s hand finally grips him, strokes him hard and fast, matching his thrusts, and Tom is done for.

Eyes screwed shut, body aflame, Tom comes, splattering the wall and locking Benedict inside him with the impossible tightness that becomes his arse. With something like Tom’s name in a grunt, Benedict follows after him, burying as deep as he can in a couple thrusts and having his orgasm ripped out of him. He spills inside the hot, wanting body before him and collapses on it, still, if not more, tired. Tom is ready to fall to his knees, to melt into a ball of post-high bliss. But the arm around his waist holds him upright, holds them together, keeps their bodies plastered, and Tom is sure Benedict’s fallen asleep when he doesn’t move.  

With a practiced tense of his arse, Tom rouses a groan from the man laid over his back. Benedict eases his weight on his feet and stands straight, leaning back in the spray of the now too hot water. His back cracks in a few places and his knees are a bit like jelly, but he manages. Tom is pulled up straight as well, his back to Benedict’s chest and head falling over the shorter man’s shoulder. The water pounds on Tom’s chest and washes down his chest to his renewing interest in their position. It was just the way Benedict was inside him, curved right up against his prostate, and growing nonetheless.

“Mh, that was fantastic,” he intones, nosing Benedict’s chin until he’s met with the first kiss of the day.

Benedict’s hands start to rove his body, beginning down his weak thighs then up to his hips. They linger there, massage the invisible ache left by the tight grip then drift up the dripping chest to the quieting thrum of a heartbeat. One lingers there while the other continues until it reaches Tom’s neck and stretches around it. The hand rests a moment, then folds up under the sharp chin and holds their faces together. Benedict kisses Tom over and over again, drawing at his lips slowly, not bothering with his teeth or tongue as he susses the sweetest of moans from Tom’s throat.

Breathless, Tom tries to turn and get more of the delectable kisses, finding himself still impaled. And Benedict gives a healthy throb at the feeling of Tom’s ever tight heat sliding off him.

“Why thank-you,” Benedict finally responds, quirking a brow as he gives a tempting thrust upwards. Tom curls on his toes with a shaky moan. “But, I wonder if I can’t make it better.”

Tom cants his head slightly, still winded and growing uncomfortable in the heat of the water pounding his chest. The hard length of Benedict’s cock draws out of him in a smooth motion and he feels utterly empty, ready to collapse again. Luckily Benedict has him, spins him around and presses him to the wall. Stuck, Tom watches helplessly as Benedict readjusts the temperature to a cooler one and sets the showerhead facing down on them. Tom tilts his head back to the wall and laps his tongue at the cool water with an appreciative hum. Benedict dips his head to kiss the hollow of Tom’s throat and laughs into it, loving how adorable his lover could be. While admiring the puppy lapping at the water overhead, Benedict draws Tom’s legs up his thighs ‘til their clasped tightly around his waist, and revels the surprised sound Tom makes when he slides back in unhindered.

Soon Tom’s hands are in Benedict’s hair, tugging playfully as he’s driven into and loving kisses are smothered against his lips.

He couldn’t have asked for a better dose of R&R.

**Author's Note:**

> I was bored, obviously. Tom needs some rest and relaxation every now and then, eh. Don't you agree?


End file.
